


Alone together

by harin91



Series: Sledgefu week [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, I'm trying to explain how this works in the notes, London, M/M, Souls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 03:02:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18730399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harin91/pseuds/harin91
Summary: If his manager noticed, she didn’t say a single thing: she knew how he could inexplicably become, sometimes.Sometimes in quietness, he just changed.- or, what happens when you share a body with a soul that's very much in love





	Alone together

**Author's Note:**

> This is an entry for the **Sledgefu week 2019 - Day 1: Soulmate AU**  
>  Please note that this work is **not beta-ed and English is not my first language** which means I'm sorry for any mistake you may find in it. This is also the reason why I haven't written Snafu's dialogues attempting a Louisiana accent... I wouldn't have done it right. Just assume he speaks like we all know!
> 
> See the end for more notes :)

As soon as the airplane had touched down on British soil, he had felt that familiar hitch under his skin. A quiet longing, the usual feeling that _soon_ , very soon, he was going to keep that old promise.

In a blur, just like a fever dream without dept and touch and edges, he drifted from the plane to the airport to the back of a black cabby. There, sitting side by side with his manager, he kept silent in such a haze, while distractingly listening to instructions on how to get to his hotel, his schedule for the upcoming days and a quiet friendly chat over the weather with the cheerful driver.

Outside the window, London was in its usual humid but still welcoming mood. The pavements shone with early switched on lights of shops and cars and red busses on rain-covered asphalt. The sounds coming from outside seemed rich but muffled by the sealed shell of the taxi.

If he closed his eyes he could almost feel himself already drifting off. Let _the other_ surface and deal with his things, with everything. He toyed with the irresponsible idea for just a handful of seconds, before telling himself he _couldn’t let that happen in there_ and to _get a grip_ and that _soon_.

 _God, he was just so fucking tired… he could sleep for days_. He probably would, considering his schedule has been kept free for a couple of days to let him adjust to the timezone and to prepare for the start of shootings and rehearsals.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

Another plane from the US had just arrived in London and once again he was sensing that word, now written in a quick and simple text: ‘soon’. He felt a pang at that, a realisation.

The hitch, usually just a forgettable tiny feeling under his fingernails and on the back of his neck, was now impossible to ignore: he was tingling all over, itchy and restless in the backseat of a taxi stuck in Londoner traffic.

If his manager noticed, she didn’t say a single thing: she knew how he could inexplicably become, sometimes.

Sometimes in quietness, he just changed.

 

His hotel’s room was unnecessarily big and luscious.

There were two other rooms beside the master bedroom and he felt almost tempted to open his single suitcase and start strewing his things all over the floor and expensive furnitures, just to shake the perfect stillness of the aseptic rich environment.

The hitch was almost a command, now.

 _Oh, is this how we’re doing it?_ he thought with a small smirk, picking up a lone socks from the underwear corner of his suitcase to toss it behind his shoulder, not even caring where it landed.

He laughed, lifting his arms to stretch his back and twirl around to finish the tour of the hotel suite, touching every surface and slightly shifting and pushing stuff just to make them look imperfect, different.

 _Silly boy_ he thought, laughing again.

He knew what the retort would have been, if only he’d been able to hear it.

 

 _He_ needed a drink and a smoke. He wasn’t even sure if there was a distinction between _them_ anymore, between their consciences.

Discarding his jacket and shirt he picked up his phone from where he had tossed it on the large bed and sent a text with his room’s number, then bent to fish a bottle of whatever expensive alcohol was in the mini-bar and got his slightly crushed packet of cigarettes out from his jeans’ back pocket.

He opened the window to access the balcony, another empty and too large space with a pair of wicker chairs and a table where he placed the scotch bottle and slid the ashtray closer. There was a breathtaking view: the top of Hyde Park’s trees and the tall buildings of The City in the distance. The night was still very young: darkness wasn’t completely painted over the grey rainy sky, but everything was already illuminated in dots of white and yellow and red.

The air was chilly on the bare skin of his chest and skinny arms, but he welcomed the feeling after the cramped, artificial heat of an international flight.

He lighted his first cigarette on British soil with his old zippo, clinking open in the quietness of the evening. Taking a first drag, he exhaled the white smoke upward, watching it disperse in the humid air between the balcony and the cloudy, starless sky.

 _Then_ , he knew it was the right time.

He sighed and closed his eyes and succumbed to the hitch, drifting to sleep.

 

He felt the other’s presence even before hearing the door of the suite open to let him in.

He smiled, keeping his gaze toward the park beneath the balcony and slowly finishing his smoke, well aware that his visitor had taken his own suitcase with him, not even bothering stopping by his own room, not even pretending a little bit.

 _Soon_ , arms circled his middle and his back hit the warmth of a jumper-covered chest.

“You’re shivering.” a whisper to his ear, before a single kiss was left on the back of his neck.

“Hi to you too.” he smirked, turning around to face him and look into his eyes: “Never saving on pleasantries, uh, what a gentleman.” he drawled.

The other replied to the amused smile and gently kissed his lips, clearly overwhelmed by the sensation of _right now_ . After _so long_.

“Was admiring the view.” he then said conversationally, gesturing vaguely to the balcony behind his back.

“Oh, sure. And what about now?” asked the other, swaying a bit with his arms still around his waist.

“Still admiring the view.” he replied, placing a hand on the other’s jaw to still him and look again into deep hazel eyes.

“Hush,” laughed the other, dragging him inside the room: “Can’t have you go all sentimental all too soon, Merriell.” he added, turning briefly around to close the window. On a second thought, he stretched his arm to grab the whiskey bottle before shutting the window closed.

“Thought a lil’ romance was allowed? We being in London and all.” tried to justify himself the Cajun soul, with a shrug of his skinny bare shoulders.

“First time?” asked the other, amused by Snafu’s sudden interest of foreign cities.

“You know it is, Sledgehammer. Haven’t been around much lately, or… at that time.” he mumbled, sitting down on the bed and falling immediately on his back to stretch his arms above his head, lazily: “Except for the other side of the fucking world, of course.”

“Hell’s own cesspool, if I remember correctly?” said Sledge, placing the bottle on the nightstand and sitting down next to Shelton.

“Oh, shit! Who are you and what have you done to my Eugene?” asked Snafu in fake disbelief: “Haven’t heard you talk like that in a very long time.” he laughed.

“We haven’t seen each other in a while, maybe I’ve changed.” considered Sledge, laying down to watch Snafu closely, their heads turned to the side on the white duvet of the bed.

“You could never,” said Snafu, suddenly more somber. He rolled on his side to face Eugene, placing his hand on the other’s jaw and adding: “We wouldn’t be able to do this, boo.”

“It was a joke, Mer.” he whispered, closing his eyes to the feeling of Shelton’s caress on his skin: “We’re fine.”

“We’re fine.” repeated Shelton, closed to his lips.

“We’ve been lucky.” sighed Sledge, slowly opening his eyes to look into Shelton’s grey ones.

“Don’t say that.” replied the Cajun, kissing his lips.

Eugene shifted so he too was facing the other, circling his naked waist to bring him closer, the warmth of his skin a tempting sensation through the material of the jumper he was wearing.

“So… London.” Shelton smiled lazily, his face half hidden against the soft duvet: “You think we have long enough to visit?” his hair were cut too short for Sledge to feel the curls caress the space between his long fingers, but he lifted his hand nonetheless, earning almost a purr from Shelton as a reaction from the touch.

“I believe their schedule is clear for the next two days,” he recalled from the glimpse he took of the phone the moment he came to the surface: “But I doubt he’d like for you to wander around looking like him.”

Shelton rolled his eyes: “He’s no fun, as usual.” he pouted: “Like I can cause _troubles_.”

“You know you can. And you would.” argued Sledge.

“Not with you as a guard dog. You always suck the fun out of everything.” he whined and then grabbed Sledge’s chin to squeeze his cheeks before he could say something, making his lips part in a funny way: “And yes I said the word ‘suck’ but you can’t comment on it.” he added, before letting him go.

“I wasn’t gonna.” lied Sledge: “We need to be careful with them, not my fault. But maybe we can go out at some point… you know, we’ll need to eat something.” he proposed.

“Like on a date?” smirked Snafu.

“If you promise to behave.” smiled back Sledge, just a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“But later.” said resolutely Shelton, moving quickly and feline-like to roll Eugene on his back and straddle his hips, bending over him predatorily.

“Later.” agreed Eugene, cupping Shelton’s face with both hands to kiss him again, to savour him and remember him over again.

 

\- - - - -

 

When he came back to the surface, the room was filled with light: it looked like the middle of a somehow cloudless day, warm enough that the window was half open and a gentle breeze was calmly shaking the curtains.

It didn’t even look like London.

He shifted and stretched out, trying to regain feeling in his limbs, power on his own body.

The other occupant of the bed was already up, showered and dressed, sitting above the duvet with his back against the headboard and his eyes glued to the screen of his phone.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” he cheered, perpetually scrolling down his Instagram feed.

“Mnh.” he mumbled, not completely convinced he wasn’t still dreaming, voice hoarse for the long sleep: “Nice to see you again, I guess.”

The other snorted: “Had to make them meet before we did.” he smiled apologetically, this time looking directly at him: “It’s okay, we’ve got plenty of time for ourselves from now on, Rams.”

“Wasn’t complaining, Joe.” he smiled back. He closed his eyes and stretched his back some more, before sitting up to look for his own phone: “It’s just a pain having to reconnect every time this happens.” he said, not finding it on the nightstand that was instead occupied by an empty whiskey bottle and an ashtray full of cigarette butts.

“I had four hundreds notifications or so.” agreed Joe, turning to the side to pick up a paper note from the second nightstand: “By the way, we have a request. Here.” he handed it to Rami.

It was written in Joe’s handwriting and the message only contained a date and the name of a city.

“Paris?” read Rami, lifting one eyebrow in confusion: “What for?”

“Maybe they discovered they like it when we travel.” shrugged Joe: “You think we’re gonna be free on the 4th of July?”

“You spoil them way too much.” was the other actor’s reply as he placed his feet on the floor to crouch down and look for his phone in a pile of clothes half under the bed: “God, they made a mess down here.”

“You know they deserve it.” defended himself Joe, just as Rami resurfaced from his hunting quest, having found his phone in his jeans’ pocket with a pleased: “A-ha!”

He dropped back on the bed as he unlocked the screen and scrolled through lost calls and text messages.

They enjoyed the quiet for a while, slowly getting back to the reality of their own lives, the fast pace of time, the preparations of the movie they were going to film in the next months.

 

\- - - - -

 

**A little extra (I wrote it as part of the fic, but it's really just an extra scene):**

 

_“So… Paris.” sighed at some point Rami, as an afterthought, after sending a long awaited reply to a message from Sami in the Malek’s family group chat._

_“4th of July. Their request. I guess we can split the holiday in two… let them have some fun and then book something for ourselves? I’ve always wanted to try the cruise on the Seine.” suggested Joe, visibly excited by the prospect._

_“How romantic.” commented Rami, looking back at him fondly: “I honestly wouldn’t mind if we manage to keep our schedules clear.” he nodded._

_“Uh, Rami?” asked suddenly Joe, eyes once again glued to his phone’s screen, this time open wide in fear and confusion: “Why are there paparazzi pictures of you riding one of Trafalgar square’s lions and then getting chased by two policemen?” he asked, barely containing his laughters as he showed said pictures to the other._

_“Oh, God no.” he moaned, scrolling through Joe’s phone to ascertain the extent of the damage: “They went around!?” he asked, suddenly very concerned._

_“C’mon you can’t keep them locked in a room for two days…” said Joe, taking his phone back to look at the photos again: “Look, they just had dinner and… no wait. There’s more.” he noticed, just a hint of panic in his voice: “Maybe you don’t wanna know.”_

_“Fuck my life.” groaned Rami into his pillow. He then bolted up, running to the bathroom to look at his reflection in the mirror above the sink as he stated: “That’s it, they’re grounded. We’re not going to Paris until they learn how to behave.”  
He then raised his voice, talking directly to himself: “Hope you heard that, you filthy piece of shit!” all the while Joe was still on the bed, bent over from laughter. _

_“Shut up, Joseph! You’re lucky you’ve got the calm one!”_

 

\- - - - -

 

**Notes:**

 

First of all, I hope you liked it!  
It's my first Sledgefu fic and I'm really nervous! I'll be participating to the Sledgefu week (yet have to finish all the prompts so I'm maybe going to miss a day or two) and I'll be cross-posting my fics here and on my Tumblr and my fanart only there, so keep an eye on: [brightly-painted-canvas](brightly-painted-canvas.tumblr.com) :)

So, about this fic: I kind of wanted to start from something I knew (Mazlek, I guess?) to approach this theme.  
I'm sure it's pretty easy to guess just by reading, bu the basic idea it's that when two souls destined to be together have a relationship strong enough, they can survive the passing of time by 'switching' the bodies they are 'hosted in'.  
The connection between Sledge and Snafu was forged during the war, but it was cut out abruptly when Snafu left Sledge on the train in New Orleans. Then, instead of living a life longing for one another, their souls 'switched' places to try and find the other again and live their happiness.  
When they discovered two young actors were going to portrait their original 'hosts', they took that chance and switched. Of course being host in a body that already has its own soul means having to compromise... which is what Rami and Joe try to do with them since they 'came along' ('cause they're good people and most importantly have a deep knowledge about their feelings, having played their roles on The Pacific).  
Rami and Joe aren't in a relationship in this, they're just friends/coworkers with this 'soulmate situation' they learnt how to manage during the years.  
Another important information is that the souls don't age: they pretty much stay the same as at the time of their first switch. That's why Rami calls Snafu a 'boy' (he's something like 10 years older by then) and both him and Joe act basically like apprehensive older brothers/parents.  
This is pretty much it. I at first thought of making it a longer fic where all of this was well explained, but I wouldn't have had enough time to finish the whole Sledgefu week project so I produced this one-shot (I'm also sorry I've cut the smutty part but I'm really bad at writing it and it would have taken too much time to get it exactly how I wanted it -I'm a bit of a perfectionist-). Hopefully (fingers crossed?) I'll have enough time and material to work on a sequel/prequel in the future!

 


End file.
